


Change and Other Difficult Concepts

by Ace Gambler (Ace_Gambler)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, Gen, M/M, Slow Burn, a lot of batfam, angsty teen damian, batfam, damian just wants to be treated like an adult, damian wayne pretends that everything is 'fine', everyone else totally knows though, grayson is oblivious, the boys repress their emotions, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 12:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6079242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_Gambler/pseuds/Ace%20Gambler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a year abroad traveling the world to train under his father's teachers, Damian has finally returned to Gotham to find little has changed in city but everything is different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change and Other Difficult Concepts

**Author's Note:**

> **EDIT**  
> This fic is currently on hold after losing my rough drafts, I'm not actively working on writing this at the moment.
> 
> \---  
> I don't usually post things that I write, but I've been piecing together this mess on my phone for a bit and I decided I may as well upload it? It's gonna be a slow build till any romance actually gets rolling, but the space between will be filled with stupid batfam shenanigans. I'll be updating tags and such as I go.  
> My apologies if it isn't polished, feedback is appreciated.

At one point in his life, Damian Wayne wanted nothing more than to return to the gorgeous oasis of his mother's island and leave Gotham far behind. It wasn't that in any way actually preferred living under Al Ghul custody, he would battle the entire league of assassins before leaving his father's side, it was just that _anywhere_ in the world seemed preferable to the hell hole that was Gotham City.

He couldn't understand his father's unconditional love for the detestable place, but he quickly adapted to life there. He became accustomed to the sprawl and urban decay, the cyclical poverty, the countless blocks of dilapidated structures, the bloodstained pavements, the rank odors of garbage and waste, the chemical pollutants in the rivers and the industrial smog in the skies because it was his duty as Robin, yet he wouldn't say the city was his first choice to reside. Gotham was an epitome of urban failure, a widely recognized cesspool that somehow continuously churned out the sickest criminals on earth. Someone had once described the city as a nightmare built from twisted metal and cold stone; it was more an observation than opinionated imagery.

Throughout the years Damian had spent living there he had never felt it was where he was meant to be, never felt accustomed to the cocktail of toxins that permeated the city's atmosphere, never could slip into the crowds of gothamites as easily as everyone else. Damian didn't think he wanted to fit so simply into the predictable rhythm of the city, either; there had to be more than that for him in life.

True enough, Damian had never been quite welcoming of the thick, damp Gotham air, but it's remarkable how some things change over time.

~*~~*~

Stepping out of the bustling airport, backpack slung on one shoulder, Damian felt relieved when a deep breath of Gotham air pumped through his lungs. It was as if the thick air filled all the hollow spaces inside him he'd been searching for a way to seal, the feeling was akin to turning a key in a lock that wouldn't open and finding something you hadn't realized you'd been missing for so long.

It had been little over fourteen months since he'd returned here, returned _home_. Throughout his time with his father he had never openly called Gotham his home before nor felt he belonged. It wasn't until he left and he started to miss her that he understood Gotham was the only home he'd ever really had, and he had to protect that. Ironic how he was just now realizing it after spending more than a year abroad searching for something more, when the city had been waiting for him all this time.

Though there had been much _more_ on his travels across the globe, amazing places and fascinating people, they never could compare to this rhythm, _the rhythm of his city._ None of the places he went beckoned to him like the alleys in the Narrows or the rooftops in Park Row. None of the places he went made him better, challenged him in quite the same way that Gotham did, building him stronger, improving him and his technique with every night out. He had always been part of the rhythm of the city, every leap, every swing, every kick. All this training, this traveling, this quest to better himself and unleash the potential in him, it had always been for her in the end. He had done it all for Gotham whether or not he knew. Perhaps he was more like his father than he realized.

Damian took in another deep breath, looking out towards the horizon. Gotham's skyline stretched before him across the river from where he stood observing her at the Archie Goodwin Airport. The late afternoon sun was filtering through the high rises as it began to set, illuminating their silhouettes against a backdrop of purple and pink hues like a picture you'd find on the back of a postcard. He allowed himself a smile at the sight, letting the image burn into his mind to be recreated in oil pastels when he had the chance. Looking back at the street, he watched as a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled up at the curb before him, passenger side window rolled down to reveal the prim elderly man behind the wheel.

"Master Damian, it's a pleasure to finally have you back," Alfred greeted with a polite smile, eyes bright with affection as Damian climbed into the passenger seat next to him. "Your luggage is already in the trunk. Anything else before we're off?"

Damian leaned over the center console to wrap an arm around him in the closest one could get to a hug in such a space before replying, "No, that's everything, Pennyworth."

The butler adjusted his coat in an amused manner, an unrestrained smile growing on his face."Yes, well, we'll be heading to the manor then, perhaps we can try a proper hug when we arrive," Alfred replied as he shifted the vehicle into drive. "Your father will be eager to see you when he returns home this evening."

Damian couldn't help his own growing smile as the city grew closer in the window. It was remarkable how some things never changed with time. Alfred a long missed familiarity at his side, they set off on the drive towards the manor where Damian knew there was more than just the city waiting for him with open arms.

~*~~*~

The moment he stepped through the door Titus was already barreling towards him, knocking him to the ground on impact. Greeting him with slobbery kisses, excited barks and ceaseless whining, Damian didn't need to be a trained detective to infer his loyal companion was overjoyed at his return. Simple as the mind of a canine can be, Titus couldn't express how much he had missed him and they were on the floor in the foyer for a good several minutes until the canine could finally contain his excitement enough to allow Damian to stand. Patting his dog on the head, Damian set off through the manor with Titus trotting along next him, his claws clicking against the wooden floors.

After managing to make his way up the main stairs without his massive, black great dane knocking him over, Damian dragged his luggage down the hallway to his bedroom. When he stepped inside he found it was exactly as he had left it before he departed over a year ago, all his possessions remained untouched beyond the occasional dusting from Pennyworth. Damian made his way across to his bed and ran his fingers over the bedspread, relishing the soft texture. There were places he'd been during his travels where money was absolutely useless and he'd found himself having to go without basic comforts usually taken for granted. The whole experience had given him a new found appreciation for luxury.

Throwing open the curtains to let in the sunlight, Damian caught sight of a mass of black and white fur curled up on a chair in the corner. Alfred lifted his head and stretched, letting out a meow of acknowledgement before leaping onto the floor to rub himself against Damian's pant legs. He reached down to pet the cat between the ears, making note to brush him later after noticing all the hair shed onto his jeans.

After dropping his backpack onto the bed, he unzipped the front pocket to remove a waterproof ziploc bag. Inside was an assortment of trinkets he'd picked up during his trip, little things he'd found or bought that he'd decided were worth keeping. He lined them up on his desk, separating the ones he'd gotten as gifts for his family. A stunning pair of gold-dipped egyptian earrings carved from precious stones he'd brought back for Cassandra along with a small figurine of a chinese dragon carved from jade were among the most expensive but there were also things as simple as a bumper sticker reading '#1 Arscholch Bruder' he'd bought with Todd in mind and an interesting chunk of metamorphic rock he'd picked up for Colin's collection. Among his many souvenirs, one he was most fond of was a little elephant carved of dark wood with swirling designs painted onto it in vibrant blue he'd picked up in India that reminded him of Grayson. After Zitka passed away the man had amassed a elephant themed household objects, but something about the figurine had caught his eye. He brought the elephant closer to his face, inspecting it for what had to have been the hundredth time since he'd acquired it. It fit in his palm easily, only about the size of a walnut, and he'd taken to fiddling with it in his pocket often enough it became familiar between his fingers. Damian wasn't sure if he wanted to give it to Grayson or keep it himself, both ideas sounded foolish when he spent too long thinking on them, which he tended to do with most thoughts involving Grayson.

With a sigh, he took his phone out of his pocket and turned it on, thumb hesitantly hovering over the lock screen while he considered whether or not to check for a reply to a text he'd sent him over a day ago. Damian had rarely used his phone for the better part of the last year. It wasn't necessary for the training regime he set out to complete, especially considering most training took place far out of reach of any cell network towers. Admittedly, much of the journey had been visiting the most challenging of the sites his father had studied at during his own travels. A large portion of the training his father had done to become Batman was obsolete for Damian, techniques he had learned and masters he had met during the years his mother was preparing him, but there were several trips his father had made that Damian had been set upon himself. He endured pain he hadn't known, strengthened his mind and body, and discovered more about himself, his father, and his legacy in his time away than he ever thought he'd know, not all things he wanted to accept either but he didn't regret a second of it.

Before he managed to come to a decision regarding Grayson the sound of the doorbell rang faintly and Titus jumped to his feet with a bark, jerking Damian out of his brooding. Seeing as he couldn't have been home for more than half an hour, Damian was almost astonished at how quickly guests were showing up. He could hear Pennyworth answer the door as he got to his feet, making his way down the corridor. Honestly, he had been hoping for more time alone before having to deal with anyone. He'd only told a few people when he got onto a plane back to Gotham and he hadn't contacted anyone in the last twelve hours other than Pennyworth and his father.

Titus at his heels, Damian descended to the entrance hall, following the corridor left to find Cassandra and Brown in the east parlour. Upon seeing him, Stephanie's face lit up and she sprang from her seat to wrestle him into a hug before he could push her away. Caught up in the commotion, Titus let out an excited bark and jumped onto Damian's favorite loveseat, an action Pennyworth generally frowned upon.

"Damian, wow, it's been so long! Oh my gosh, look at you, you're so tall! Were you this tall before you left? Cass, look at how tall this kid is!," Stephanie gushed, motioning animatedly to the near six inches taller than her that the young man stood.

Cass shot him an amused smile from her spot on the sofa by the window. "Not much of a baby bird anymore."

"You're right, Cass, our boy is a fine young man-bird now," Steph sniffed dramatically, wiping away a nonexistent tear. She reached up and pinched Damian's cheeks, "He's finally ready to fly away and start his own nest."

"And feed his own children worms," Cass added with a solemn nod.

Damian swatted Stephanie's hands away with a scowl. "Tt, I thought we had decided the bird jokes ceased to be amusing after I turned sixteen, Brown."

"I think you're the only one that decided that, but there's no need to get your feathers all ruffled," Stephanie replied with a self-satisfied grin.

Damian grit his teeth but quickly relaxed, not about to get worked up over her awful bird puns. After Damian had hit puberty several years back, discussion of a new alter ego had begun. Traditionally, the mantle of Robin was usually grown out of by the time one started to sprout facial hair and young vigilantes were expected to start plans for a more fitting identity. As attached to Robin as Damian was, he hadn't thought to consider a new mantle at all and when asked had told his family that he planned to 'continue being a bird'. The statement was infamous and everyone had teased him over it since and apparently no one was going let him to live it down.

Cass giggled and Damian turned to fix her with an accusatory stare, "How did you get here so quickly? I only just got back from the airport."

Cassandra smiled and tapped her phone, displaying him a text Alfred had sent her before arriving to pick him up. "A little bird told me."

Stephanie snorted and clapped her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing at Cassandra's expertly executed pun. Damian let out a resigned sigh and accepted this was his fate before making himself comfortable next to Titus on the loveseat. As the trio began to talk, Alfred came into the parlour with a small tray of sandwiches for Damian, who hadn't eaten between flights. When he turned to go, he shot Titus a look like he was warning the great dane to keep off the new upholstery before heading to the kitchen to begin preparing for dinner.

Damian ate the sandwiches (not very filling, but Alfred wouldn't have him spoiling his appetite) while Steph and Cass asked him questions about his trip then proceeded to fill him in on inane gossip they considered relevant. Eventually they were telling anecdotes about their own lives, Stephanie gesturing broadly with her hands as she talked, Cassandra interjecting to add something now and then.

An hour later, Damian was returning from the kitchen after cleaning up the tray of sandwiches he'd eaten when the doorbell rang. A beat later it rang a second time, then again in a more insistent manner.

"I'll get it," Damian called out, not wanting to interrupt the butler's preparations in the kitchen. He walked towards the entrance hall, but before he could reach the door it burst open from the other side. Damian blinked twice as Jason stepped into the foyer, followed by Tim who was in the middle of calling the elder out on how rude he was behaving.

"Relax, Timmy," Jason said over his shoulder as he wiped his boots on the doormat, turning around and noticing Damian standing in the hall. Jason had him crushed in a bear hug before he could protest, mussing up his hair thoroughly. "Hey, speak of the demon, here he is! Say, how angry would you be if I told you Alfred invited us for dinner?"

Damian barely squirmed out of Jason's grasp and allowed himself a second to fix the mess Jason had made of his hair. He shot a dry look at the pair before turning on his heel and leading them towards the parlour. "On a scale of one to five, Todd, perhaps three, but it's currently irrelevant. Dealing with the two of you is a measure less irritating than being stuck alone dealing with the _two of them_ ," Damian says with a gesture towards the couch Stephanie and Cassandra were sitting on, entirely engaged in their own conversation about Damian could only guess what.

"Oh, thank god it's not just us and you, with Bruce," Jason cried with a hint of genuine relief before making his way to claim the well-worn velvet armchair in the corner. "I love you, kid, but between the three of us and you, it'd be one awkward dinner party."

Jason sunk into the overstuffed chair while Tim opted to sit on the end of the sofa nearest to him, most of his weight on the armrest as he leaned over it. Steph and Cass dominated the other side of the enormous sofa, Stephanie's legs stretched over Cass's lap as she sat angled into the cushions. Taking in the scene before him at that moment, Damian was sure Pennyworth had purposefully steered them into the east parlour rather than the larger sitting room near the front where he kept all the elegant furniture. The east parlour was where they always seemed to gather, and Damian briefly wondered if one day Alfred would deem them mature enough to sit in the front parlour with the elegant furniture. He couldn't quite imagine it ever happening, considering they never manage to behave like adults when all placed within the same room.

"So, Jay," Tim started, drawing out the two syllables in a way that screamed an impending challenge, "I think Damian may have passed you while he was away."

Jason struggled to leap out of the armchair as it had begun to ensnare him in it's plush clutches, "No way! You're full of shit, Tim. No way, no. Come over here so we can measure, D." Damian scoffed, but complied, removing his own boots after Jason complained the heel gave him an extra inch.

Well over fifteen years ago, this ridiculous contest had started as an argument between young Jason and Dick over who would inherit the batmobile when Bruce hung up the cape. Sick of their squabbling, Bruce decided to settle it himself with his own brand of achievement. If any Robin ever asked, Bruce's reply would always have been that Robin couldn't drive the batmobile till he was as tall as Batman. Confident in his own height and the forgetful minds of children, Bruce had told the two that whoever was as tall as him once he retired would get the batmobile. Jason took this to heart, setting a new record for how often Alfred had to buy milk in a week and holding Bruce to his words. It had been a running contest since, the competition only growing with the number of family members. Damian didn't particularly care about winning in the longstanding challenge between the family, but he had long ago learned it was simpler to just appeal to Jason's whims.

Standing back to back with shoulders forward and posture impeccable, Tim and Cass agreed that Jason still had at least two inches on Damian. Jason let out a whoop, pumping his fist in the air triumphantly. "There's no guarantee that Damian's not going to shoot up a couple inches," Tim said with a slightly taunting edge, "He's got Bruce's genes, after all, and he won't be entirely finished growing till he's twenty-one."

Jason snorted, "Shut up, Tim, you're just jealous because you're like, a foot shorter than everyone."

Tim was always a little defensive of his height, or lack thereof, and everyone knew that Jason was just riling him up but Tim took the bait anyway. He stood from his seat, protesting, "I am only five and a half inches shorter than you Jason Todd, and you know it."

Rolling his eyes, Damian returned to his spot on the loveseat, careful not to sit on Titus, who was watching Jason and Tim argue with wary curiosity. Scratching Titus behind the ears with one hand, he checked his phone with the other, tuning out the ensuing argument. Damian opened the messaging app, looking through conversation threads till he found the one labeled 'Grayson'. He stared at the last message in the conversation as his fingers hovering over the touchscreen. He'd sent it around forty hours ago, just three words.

_I'm coming home._

Grayson still hadn't responded.

"Can't figure out what to say to him?" Cass asked from where she'd appeared standing behind his seat, startling him out of his thoughts with a small jolt. Damian quickly tucked his phone in his pocket, inwardly cursing Cassandra's naturally lighter steps and superior stealth.

"Who?" Steph asked from across the room where she still sat on the sofa, watching Jason unsuccessfully try to put Tim in a headlock, his own arm ending up twisted behind him instead while Tim used it to pin him to the floor, face first.

"Dick," Cass answered, aptly choosing to ignore the grown men wrestling on the carpet.

"I'm not sure it would matter," Tim cuts in, muffled cursing barely audible as he ground Jason's face into the floor with his foot. "If you text him, I mean. He's been undercover a few days now for a huge drug bust, I doubt he'd risk having his personal cell on him."

A heavy silence fell upon the room as they all considered this and Damian glanced at the floor with a frown. Grayson probably never got his text, so it was fair to assume he wasn't even aware that Damian was back in Gotham. Which meant he definitely wouldn't be over for Alfred's impromptu 'Welcome Home' dinner. Not that it mattered, _really_. Damian wasn't especially eager to see Grayson or anything, _honestly_ , he just thought he would be here with the rest of them. Damian fought down the crushing disappointment in his chest, admonishing himself. This didn't change anything. He'd still see most of his family, and despite their absolutely ridiculous antics, that did make him happy.

He let a silent sigh escape from between his lips, his eyes shifting to where Jason was still laying on the ground, apparently resigned or unwilling to bother moving from where Tim had his face pressed into the carpet. The sight provoked an unexpected snicker, a tiny chuckle spilling out. Noticing what Damian was laughing at, the other three erupted in infectious sniggers that turned into genuine peals of laughter after Jason lifted his face to reveal his cheeks were covered in large streaks of rug burn.

Alfred stepped into the parlour a few moments later, a look of concern on his face upon taking in the sight of Stephanie on the ground, face pressed to the carpet, Jason's face covered in red streaks as he knelt next to her, the rest of them breathless from laughter. With the look of disapproval on his face, Damian decided that if he were considering it at all before Pennyworth would likely never allow any of them to sit in the fancy front parlour now. After all, they never _could_ behave respectable when they were all placed in the same room, and even with time, some things never changed.

~*~~*~

By the time Bruce got home, no one could wait any longer to eat with the tempting aroma of Alfred's cooking drifting through the hall. After an excellent dinner, they were joined by Barbara, Clark and Colin while Damian shared stories of the interesting twists and turns in his journey abroad. Several unique trophies were revealed before being wrapped up with the promise to be displayed in his own corner of the cave. It was an excellent night and Damian finally was surrounded by what he'd been yearning for throughout the past few months: family. The only handful of people in the world he would admit he cared about, _except one_ , were all here around him.

As it started to get truly late, Alfred shooed everyone out of the manor so Damian could get a proper rest, though he spent the next hour with his father sharing the experiences he'd had training in the Himalayas. By the time Damian had finally reached his own room, exhausted and ready to collapse into bed for the next twelve hours, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened the door to find none other than Dick Grayson climbing in through his window.

"Whoops," Dick muttered with a chuckle as he scrambled into the room, closing the window behind him. "Surprised, kiddo?"

Embarrassed he was caught off guard and honestly irritated that he spent any time at all feeling disappointed that Grayson wasn't there only for him to turn up like this, Damian turned around and ignored him in favor of being upset. With his characteristic obliviousness, Dick followed Damian through his room, entirely unaware of the tension.

Damian moved to his bureau, picking out an old pair of BPD sweats and a t-shirt to wear to sleep while Dick examined the assortment of souvenirs Damian had amassed during his travels. "Wow, Dami, you must've been all over the map," Dick mused as he picked up, coincidentally, the very carved elephant that had reminded Damian of him. Irritated, Damian snatched it out of his hand, silently cursing the universe. "Oh, sorry," Dick chuckled sheepishly, "I probably should have asked before touching anything, huh?" Damian glared at him wordlessly until the man started to fidget uncomfortably under his gaze. "Damian, what's wrong?" Grayson asked softly, voice so genuinely full of concern and care that Damian had to let out a breath through his nose and stop acting petulant.

"Nothing's wrong, Grayson," Damian responded with a sigh before moving to his bathroom to find his tooth brush, "it just would have been far more reasonable if you had called first."

Dick stood in the middle of the room before moving to sit on the edge of Damian's bed, "Ah, Sorry. I didn't really think about it, I was so excited to see you." A tiny, buried part of Damian that he wished didn't exist stirred at that, filling him with an almost intoxicating warmth knowing Grayson had been excited to see him. "I probably should've come in through the door at least," Grayson continued while Damian brushed his teeth, "but I thought it'd be fun to come in through your window and surprise you like I used to when I'd sneak you out on patrol." The warmth was immediately stamped out by frustration.

Damian rinsed his toothbrush off and put it away before responding, "That was when I was a child, Grayson. If you recall, I just turned nineteen. Besides that, it's nearly two in the morning and I'm exhausted." Dick's laughter softly echoed in the silence of the night as Damian walked back out into his bedroom, more than ready to finally get some sleep.

"I'm sorry, Dami," Dick grinned, reaching out to card his fingers through Damian's untrimmed hair, "I just missed you." Those words together with the fingers stroking his hair softened Damian's frustration to nonexistence once more and he nudged Dick further down the mattress so he could climb under his blanket.

"The least you could have done was come in the morning. Now it's too late in the night to go anywhere and I'm too tired to talk." A yawn came tumbling out as if to emphasize Damian's point, and Dick's quiet laughter filled the room once more.

Dick scooted towards Damian on the edge of the bed, petting the younger's hair. Damian let out a quiet sigh of contentment, his eyes slipping closed. "Don't worry, kiddo, we'll have plenty of time to spend together now that you're back."

Damian made a scoffing sound, turning on his side so his back was to Dick. "Did you only come here to pester me then, Grayson?"

"Nah," Dick replied as Damian felt his mattress dip, "I figured I'd just crash here tonight and take my time pestering you in the morning."

Damian's heart tried to jump out of his chest cavity as Dick brushed against his back. Damian would protest a queen sized bed couldn't comfortably fit two grown men and tell Grayson to go to his own room, but he was trying to remember how to breathe properly and he was tired, Grayson was curled up next to him and Damian knew he was far past the age where this sort of thing just happened anymore, so he didn't say anything. "Fine. Goodnight, Grayson."

There was a click as Dick turned off the lamp on his nightstand before responding, "Night, Dami."


End file.
